Good Tidings
by translucency for summertime
Summary: Ginny didn’t reply for a while, carefully crafting her answer so that Draco would understand what she meant. “Sometimes it matters more to be successful monetarily and powerfully than being successful in being a good person.” Implied GWDM. Oneshot.


**Good Tidings**

"We wish you a merry Christmas…we wish you a merry Christmas…we wish you a merry Christmas…and a happy New Year…"

Frosted words hung off chapped red lips, heavy icicles of fragile air piercing creamy white skin, only a few shades brighter than the cool snow lying at her feet. Bundles of red hair, curled for hours upon end only to hang limp once more, framed Ginevra Weasley's freckled face. She stood on the platform at the Hogsmeade train station, a warm glow from her wand shining light into the early morning fog.

She was looking forward to going home for the holidays. The fireplace roaring with life, stockings hung up dangerously close to the flames with no iron gate to act as a precaution…sweet scents of gingerbread and tree sap engrained in her very skin for the two weeks…the distinct absence of the cold mausoleum that was school.

Her cheeks flushed as the frigid wind clawed at her face. She rubbed at them with her brown woolen mittens, the ones her mum had knitted for her just two Christmases before. She remembered unwrapping them, tearing carefully at the Daily Prophet wrappings, smiling brightly as she noticed the tell-tale 'G's that were embroidered with tiny Xs in the middle of the palms.

"Why if it isn't a Weasel-She," came drawl from beside her. Ginny didn't need to turn to know that it was Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy," she greeted cordially. Her arms dropped back to her sides, left hand retrieving the wand she had stuck in her back pocket.

"Are you trying to blast your ass off?" Draco sneered. Ginny allowed herself to survey him with cool eyes. His usually slicked back platinum hair was oddly out-of-place as it hung long in his flint grey eyes. He was also bundled up, although not to the degree that she was. Ever-cautious, she had made sure to leave no place except her face uncovered. Draco sported a coat and pair of dragon-hide boots, but lacked the ear muffs, gloves, and hat that she boasted.

"Are you trying to impersonate Professor Moody?" she shot back. His quick snicker and the way the dimple in his left cheek deepened didn't go unnoticed.

"Do I get a passing grade?" He smirked.

Ginny didn't smile back. Instead she asked, "Where are your goons?"

"Crabbe and Goyle would rather stuff their pockets with sweets from the kitchen than stand out in the cold. Even if they are going to miss the train," he remarked, clearly disgusted.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ginny inquired. She looked back at the barren train tracks below the platform. _It's a long way down_, she thought, _a long way for someone to fall_. She grimaced and decided not to push the young man over the ledge.

"Do I need a reason to torment a Weasley?" he replied, chuckling.

"You're a jackass," Ginny remarked.

Draco was quiet. She allowed her gaze to travel over in his direction, taking in his calculating expression as they caught each other's eyes. She snapped her focus to her feet, a blush flushing across her cheeks.

"I know."

Ginny didn't say anything. When she looked back at him again, he was staring out into the empty space ahead of them. She smiled apologetically, although she knew he couldn't see her.

"Are you looking forward to the holidays?" she asked, making her initiation of conversation apology enough in her eyes.

He chuckled darkly. "Oh yes. It should be _smashing_," he responded. "Father will be at work constantly, I'll be lucky if I see him at all while I'm home. Mother while hole herself up in her wing of the house, crying over their broken relationship, no doubt. Potter freed my house elf, so I won't even have him to open presents with."

He snorted.

"That's what I call a Christmas to remember," he finished.

Ginny frowned. "That's awful, Draco," she said sympathetically.

"So I'm Draco now, Weasel-She?" he teased smugly.

"And I'm still Weasel-She, huh, Ferret?" she shot back coldly.

Draco's face was illuminated, eyes dancing and mouth quick to quirk. It was like watching frozen river water melt in the early Spring, tiny section running before others before the ice completely shattered. "No," he chuckled, "I suppose you're not."

A warm moment passed between the two of them.

"I'm sure you're looking forward to spending Christmas in your rabbit hole," Draco said, not intentionally being unkind.

"I am," she replied, buffing her chest out. "I'm looking forward to it a lot," she continued.

"Every year, all my brothers come home for Christmas. Even Bill, who's in Egypt, and Charlie, who's in Romania. They would never miss a Christmas for the world. It's become a tradition now, surely," her smiling voice faltered, "Well…I actually don't know if my brother Percy will be coming home this year…"

"The ex-Head Boy, right?" Draco inquired.

She nodded. "He's become rather…career-driven and is really pig-headed and prattish to everyone who isn't the Minister or his _esteemed_ boss Bartemous Crouch. If he does come home this Christmas, I know that at least three of my brothers will take turns beating him up. Mum would be so happy though…"

"What? Doesn't he believe in being a good little blood traitor anymore?" Draco sneered.

Ginny didn't reply for a while, carefully crafting her answer so that Draco would understand what she meant. "Sometimes it matters more to be successful monetarily and powerfully than being successful in being a good person," she told him, "At least, that what I think Percy's reasoning behind it is. I don't understand it at all."

"I don't understand people whose reasoning isn't just that," Draco countered. An uncomfortable silence fell over the two, with Ginny playing with the buttons on her coat, taking turns between sliding the metal circles in and out of the slits, and with Draco picking at the miniscule particles of dirt underneath his fingernails.

The train whistled far in the distance, puffs of black smoke rising upon the horizon.

"I hope you have a nice Christmas, nevertheless, Draco," Ginny told him. Draco looked at her in surprise; he had expected that the conversation had come to a screeching halt.

"Yes, well I doubt that," he replied, pulling his eyebrows together. Ginny rolled her eyes and turned her attention back towards the approaching train.

"Er…I hope your brother comes home for your Christmas," Draco added awkwardly.

Ginny smiled. "Thanks," she whispered.

"That means a lot to me."

She side stepped towards him, black boots mussing the sludge that lay at their feet. Bring her feet into a relevé, she kissed his cheek tentatively.

Without another word, she stepped onto the train, which had just pulled into the station. Draco's cheeks flushed a bright red uncharacteristically, the vibrant color standing out against his already pink, wind-chapped face, and he brought his fingertips to where her lips had just touched.

He smiled in response, although she wasn't there to notice.

"That meant a lot too."

* * *

I'm getting into the Christmas spirit! And it isn't past Thanksgiving yet. D=

This was really just a challenge to myself to see if I could successfully write het, even if implied, while I'm writing slash. I thought I did an okay job, even if it isn't flaunting the story's sexuality.

Review if you'd like.


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